Finding foodstuffs weren't really a problem for me and Dre. Within the rubble of debris and destruction, many of the stores and some homes were accessable by digging and pulling stuff off of the top of collapsed buildings. The basement windows of many abandoned homes weren't that difficult to get into. We have also found that several of the thought to be empty houses were not empty at all. We hadn't thought of the folks who had nowhere to go...the trapped ones and those who refused to migrate. Me and Dre spent some time in providing assistance to many of those who simply needed a hand or two in digging themselves out from under the fallen bricks and mortar that had not been completely destroyed, but crumbled.

In our quest to gather things that would sustain us in this time of desolation, we have also discovered the existence of roving bands of bellicose and portentous vagrants who actually believed they were in charge of things...and survivors.

Our thoughtless zest for the things that would keep us entertained; or so we believed; not realizing the possibility of rivals in our quest; like booze and such, would be sought by desperados as well. Many of the dead dope-dealers and their stashes of goods, were not only known of by us...many of their clientele have also survived the initial blasting of the neighborhood(s). They were seeking the leftover goods to support them, knowing that the **** would be for the taking...for free. We failed to realize the bombed-out stores and warehouses would be the primary target(s) of those who also survived the horrific invasion...the good folk and the bad.

For some unknown reason, word got out that 'Russ' and 'Me' had something that everyone wanted or needed. The so-called desperados and their minions got the idea that we had what eveyone was looking for...the drugs, water, food, booze, and probably medicine. That was not the case. It's true that we have managed to store away some goods and food-stuffs. We also had a couple of cases of booze that we recovered from the flattened liquor store on Chelten Avenue. The "stop-n-Go's" surrounding the area yeilded several bottles of beer, cases where recoverable as well. We couldn't carry the stuff. We only took what we could carry and needed.

Me and Dre didn't have in our possession what they thought we had. Several of the destroyed houses were inhabited by sportsmen. They often had tools and weaponry suiting their hunting purposes. We were smart enough to grap a few pieces, thinking that we might need some protection along the way during this nightmarish epoch in what was left of our lives. I liked the hunting bow and arrows...Dre cottoned to the 'Over-and-under' sixteen gauge shotgun and a 25' cal. automatic Barretta handgun that was recovered from an upstairs bedroom that was doomed to be a downstairs bedroom. The gun was found in the debris of a house on 'Tulpehocken St.,' just around the corner.

We often wondered what had become of 'G'... 'Gregstone ("Che") Ravenell,' some, including we, called him 'G,' became the owner of 50 East Walnut Lane in or around the nineteen-seventies. He owned the building for a long time. He decided to move to the 'Pocono Mountains' a while back... He let us use the house whenever we wanted so long as we didn't **** it up or hold hot greasy s*x and pot parties. We promised not too. Albeit, we did plan on throughing a secret Soirée or two in the near future. The unholy alien invasion changed all that.

Knowing who the pot dealers where and where they lived helped us recover a few ounces of weed. We knew it wouldn't be enough to hold us before we would want more. So we planned to grow our own once we got to a place where life would be possibly safe and enduring. The "nose candy" entertainment was a hores of a different color. Pastorious Street was notorious for it's haven of dope dealers. We got lucky there too. The inside holders stash was very difficult to find while the street level dudes weren't as impressive. They normally kept their stuff planted in the bushes or trash cans and such near where they peddled the goods. That was easy to find so long as you knew the dudes on the corner and their dealing habits.

Dre and me were preparing to make plans as to where we would go to live after all this nasty killing and destruction was over...if it ever were to be over... Where would we go? How would we get there?

As we sat and talked, planning our relocation, Dre thought he'd heard a strange sound. I thought I heard something as well. It was near dark on a moonless sky. On the other side of the crushed chain-linked fence, there was a shuffling sound. The lot was full of smashed and flattened cars next door in Rick's old repair shop garage. The tall trees in the back yard of our once standing house came down as well as the trees in the backyard of 'Ellie,' his mother-in-law who resided on the other side of the once thriving old shop, originally owned by his father.

The noise grew louder as it came closer... We could barely make out the silhouette of a man. The man was holding something. It appeared to be a large club or stick of sorts. Then there was another sound that came from the rubbled lot that used to be 52 East Walnut Lane. Squinting, we could make out the forms of three more individuals in the shape of men. In their stealth, they drew nearer and nearer. The silhouettes became recognizable figures. These figures where definetly attackers out to get us. At about ten paces on our right, the fugure raised the club to swing... Dre pulled out the Barretta and squeezed of a round hitting the attacker. The Barretta had the kick of a four hundred pound mule. Down went the assailant. On the left, I didn't have enough time to load an arrow into the bow, so I grabbed the shot-gun from the ground, next to where Dre was sitting and cocked both barrells of the gun. I didn't even have to aim the damned thing, all I did was raise it and fire both pull the triggers of the mini-cannon. The gun barrells flared and flashed with a monstrous explosion sending all three shadowed figures backward off their feet. They must of flown twelve feet backward(s) before falling to the ground.
Some of the groups members, we saw them as they attempted to "bum-rush" us, turned and ran when they heard the gun fire. Others simply fell to the ground. It was they who thought they had the advantage because we'd fired off a couple of rounds. They were mistaken. By the time we turned to face each other, I was already loading an arrow into my bow. Dre had retrieved the shot-gun, popping out the used shells, reloading new ones. The Barretta held about sixteen shots per cartridge - meaning fifteen were still at the ready.

A voice called out for us to give up whatever goods and supplies that we had. "Drop your weapons and give us all that you have...your lives will be spared and no harm will come to you!" the voice said.

"Bull****!" shouted Dre as he pointed the shot-gun in the direction of the voice. I also readied my bow and arrow in that direction. The voice hollered "Get Them! Get Them Now!"

Dre fired the shot-gun as four shadows went down. I let loose my arrow which hit its mark, passing through one man, sticking in the chest of another who was standing behind him. Groups of shadowed intruders charged, they too had weapons...mostly sticks and clubs. The voice had a gun. He fired his weapon in our direction only to miss us both. The slug hit one of the broken buildings concrete stones and ricocheted off into space. Dre turned and fired his Barretta, striking another and another as he fired once, twice, and three times before The gang of silhouettes either fell to the ground or turned and ran. But just as this all had occurred, the voice and six other bodies ran toward us from directly across the street.

Dre turned to fire his Barretta. It was just a bit too late. The voice had a steady aim and fired at Dre. Just as he fired the weapon, he grabbed the side of his head as his gun flew off into the brushes in one of the front yards of the bombed-out buildings. Another shot had been fired. It came from a 'Smith and Wesson' "Colt 45." That gun had been fired by someone else...someone that we'd not counted...one that we'd not seen emerging from the shadows of the moonless night. The flares, torches, flashlights, and burning buildindgs glowed enough light for us to see that we'd been rescued from someone whom we thought to be either dead or living far, far away from this location. It was "Che" and a couple of his friends from the Pocono Mountains!

"Yo, didn't I tell you guys to take good care of my house!" he said, smiling as he approached. We were elated to see that it was 'G' who came to our rescue.

"Damn Bro., we were just talking about you!" we said in unison.

"I thought it would be a good idea to come back to the "hood" and see first hand what had become of you both and the folks in and around the neighborhood. We thought that we'd might be able to help a few folk(s) and get them the hell away from here before the full and utter destruction of this city had taken place. I'm glad that you boys have been alright...holding down the fort, huh?"

Just as the trio of friends and supporters swapped notes and cudo's, lights flashed and thunder booms sounded in the distance. It wasn't the weather. The machines had heard the fire-fight and picked up on the muzzle flashes...they keyed in on the activity, re-marching on the 'Germantown' and surrounding area(s).

"Yo, we need to get the **** out of here in a hurry. Russell, you and Stevie should gather as much stuff as you can carry while me, 'Arch' and 'Sandy' here, get the rest. Those damned monsters are coming this way. We saw a few of them as we passed through 'Chestnut Hill' on the way here. Most everything is shut down up there...we could get out along the "Old Stenton Road" out back by the farms and arboreta on the way to 'Norristown.' They haven't been hit yet. If we're lucky, we could get out to the Route 309 causeway, making our way up past the 'Delaware River Water Gap' and up into the mountains, putting us in behind the invasion attacks. The United States Military has been fighting a losing battle against these babies so far. But at least we can get out and as far away from this **** as possible. Many of the land(s) on the way has been for the most part desolate and abandoned. The only food stuffs that might be available is what is growing out in the fields of farmland and fields along the way.